Wilmington, NC 05 - Murder On The ICW

we'd hung the filmy linen panels that fell in deep folds across the sliding glass doors that led to the terrace.
    Over the fireplace an oil painting of a sunset at Wrightsville Beach was prominently displayed, a gift from Cameron Jordan when he and Melanie had been dating. The painting was executed in brilliant colors. In it, the sky was layered in bold reds and pinks. The sun was setting in the west just outside the frame, shooting rods of flame across the sand dunes. Surprisingly the striking hot colors of the painting complimented the austere coolness of the room.
    Melanie was meticulous about her surroundings, so particular that her environment be beautiful and arranged just so. How dreadful it must have been for her to be held in a jail cell over night . But Melanie, for all her prissiness, is incredibly strong. She had made it through the ordeal with her confidence intact, in fact she was feistier than ever, determined to make somebody pay for accusing her unjustly.
    I was just glad Daddy was not alive to see his daughter arrested like a common criminal.
    I collected the perfectly chilled bottle, two wine goblets, and the cork screw, and headed back to the master suite. Melanie was on her cell.
    "Oh, darling, Cam, I can't thank you enough for coming to my rescue. I knew you wouldn't let me down. There are people in this town -- jealous, small-minded people -- who are happy to think the worst of me, but you'd never take that attitude."
    She listened as he spoke.
    I'd gone to the courthouse that morning to make arrangements to pay Melanie's bail money, but Cameron Jordan had beaten me to the punch. Melanie was perfectly capable of paying her own bail, she had more money than I, but she'd let Cam pay her bail anyway. It was the principle of the act, his solid declaration that he believed in her.
    And still loved her, I was sure.
    Melanie had Cam wrapped around her little finger and it sounded like she was now rewarding him for his devotion. But I was glad he was back in the picture. Maybe some good would come out of this tragedy after all.
    She clicked off the phone, smiling.
    "That darling man. He is so good to me. He offered to take me to New York for a few days of fun, theatre and shopping." She frowned. "But because of those idiot police I can't leave town. So we're going out on his yacht for the weekend. Walt got the judge's okay. We can't go far -- just cruise around the waterway -- but it'll be fun. He is the sweetest thing." She smiled to herself and twirled a curl around a finger.
    Was her obsession with Joey Fielding finally a thing of the past? I sincerely hoped so. Because with him dead, Melanie could really be stuck, frozen in time over a love that could never be. And Joey would assume larger than life appeal and she'd never get over him.
    Then her expression grew steely. "But when I get back on Monday, watch out! Fur is going to fly, and it won't be mine."
    I was pleased by these latest developments. "Cam Jordan was always gaga over you, Mel," I said.
    "Yes, he was," she agreed, smiling slyly. What was she up to?
    "Okay, little sis, so here's what happened on Friday. You know I have the Bitterman listing. And the Bittermans are at their new condo in Palm Beach. Bunny Bitterman asked me to personally keep an eye on the house for them and you know how I baby my clients. They've got valuable antiques and paintings in that house."
    "Yes, I've been inside. I remember now. I attended a political party there for the last presidential election," I said. "And everyone knows who Brie is."
    "Anyway, I've been making a point of stopping by every afternoon to check on things and water the plants. Well, when I got to the house yesterday afternoon, the door was unlocked. I inserted my key to unlock it and discovered it was already unlocked. And I'm sure I locked up the previous day.
    "I went inside the foyer, calling for Bunny and Clay, but felt sure they were still at Palm Beach. I thought Brie might have been there. I'd heard that she was back in Wilmington between tours."
    Brie Bitterman was a teenage diva, only seventeen but wildly popular with the tweens and teens and at the top of the charts. A Grammy award winner. She had a manager who traveled with her on world tours.
    "But going into the house alone wasn't smart, Mel. You should have phoned the police. There could have been a robbery in progress and you could have been hurt."
    But Melanie has always been a risk taker.
    She waved a hand in the air